


Low Tide

by zizis



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zizis/pseuds/zizis
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING - FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS - Please do not read this fic if this could trigger or upset you.





	Low Tide

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING - FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS - Please do not read this fic if this could trigger or upset you.

“The tide is high……” sings ironically in Serena’s head. Ironically, because it isn’t. It is in fact low tide. She’s misjudged it.

She stands at the end of the wooden pier. The waters of the Thames into which she had contemplated throwing herself, lapping thinly at its feet, the sandy mud below the pier exposed and grubby. Someone has drawn a large penis in the bared soil. Well, maybe not so large if you consider it in proportion to the balls etched below, she muses. This is not very noble, she reflects. This is probably rather pathetic. I’ve made such a mess of it. Of everything. I can’t even end it well.

The waters are receding even further. A used condom bobs to its edge. “I’m not going to do it, am I ?” Serena murmurs to herself, “not today, not here, not in this.” The self disgust rancid in her mouth. But still she doesn’t move away. Can’t think of a reason to. Not now.

“Mind if I smoke?”

A voice breaks through her internal monologue. She turns. A woman in a pale pink coat. Collar upturned. Blonde messy hair.

“You’re welcome to join me,” and the open pack is proffered. Serena hesitates. She hasn’t smoked for years, not since Edward. Oh what the heck.

“Thanks,” and she pulls one out. The woman flicks her lighter and offers it up to Serena. The sparking flame reflects in her dark hooded eyes for a brief moment. Serena watches, and then drags the light into her cigarette. The taste hits the back of her throat, and she coughs at the shock of it.

“Sorry,” she splutters, “It’s been a while since my last one.”

“Oh no,” says the stranger, “have I led you astray ?”

“Don’t worry,” Serena responds wryly, “I was beyond salvation anyway.”

They fall silent. Each leans against the railing, quietly drawing on their cigarettes. In the distance the low boom of a boat out where the waters of the river still run deep.

“I’m Bernie, by the way,” the woman breaks the silence and turns to Serena.

“Serena,” she replies, and stretches out her hand for an introductory shake.

“So, what brings you here Serena ?”

Serena wonders to herself how to respond. I came here to throw myself in, to end it all, doesn’t feel an appropriate response. She says nothing. Bernie doesn’t press and they fall into a companionable silence again.

“Do you fancy a cuppa ?” Bernie enquires after a while.

And suddenly Serena feels she wants nothing more than to move away from this water’s edge and sit down with this woman for a cup of tea. She feels…..safe. Yes, safe. She hasn’t felt like this for….she can’t recall. For as long as she can remember she feels as though she’s been walking along a tightrope, a mask fixed to her face. She turns to look at Bernie. There is a stillness about her. A small furrow above her nose, but a warm smile beneath. Asks nothing of her. Expects nothing of her.

“I’d like that very much,” she says.

And means it. The smile on Bernie’s face broadens, and they turn to make their way back along the pier to the shore, the water, now slowly beginning to rise as the tide turns, left behind them. Safe.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand alone piece, at the moment at least. I did not feel able to stay in this dark place to write more at this time, but maybe one day I will take this further and develop it.


End file.
